Gregor leaned against the wall near the desk, arms crossed tightly, his face unreadable. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice dry but curious.
"You know what? It skipped my mind earlier, but yeah, I am interested in that backup plan of yours. Might as well make me feel a little better about getting tossed across the room earlier."
Tom glanced up from his setup, his expression shifting into that familiar half-smirk that always preceded something dramatic. "You remember when I tackled Jhel near the shelf?"
Gregor raised an eyebrow. "You mean before he blew up the couch?"
Tom nodded. "Yeah. During that scuffle, I slipped something into his jacket. Small tracker, magnetized, coded to my device. Took half a second."
Gregor blinked. "You planted that while getting your ribs bruised?"
Tom shrugged, feigning modesty. "Timing is everything."
He reached over to the tablet on the desk, tapped the screen a few times with practiced ease, and pulled up a map interface. A thin, blinking red dot pulsed against the digital landscape, moving slowly along a road.
"There," Tom said, angling the screen so Gregor could see. "Our missing journalist is on the move."
Gregor leaned over the tablet, eyes narrowing at the display. "He's moving fast," he muttered, tapping the screen lightly. "Definitely driving. Possibly trying to put distance between him and this place as quickly as possible."
Tom nodded. "Yeah, I figured he'd bolt the second we left his place in ruins. But now we've got him on the grid."
Gregor stood upright and cracked his neck. "We should intercept him before he gets too far. Catch him off guard on the road."
But Tom shook his head. "Tempting, but no. If we intercept him now, we get another messy chase. We force him to improvise. I'd rather wait, see where he thinks he's safe. Let him lead us."
Gregor frowned, clearly itching for action, but he didn't argue. He trusted Tom's instincts, even if they were annoying half the time.
While Gregor paced a slow circle around the room, Tom picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages. His eyes flicked over Julia's last unread text.
He tapped a reply, fingers moving with casual familiarity:
"Sorry I didn't text earlier. Things have been insane. Work stuff. Finally free now."
They texted back and forth for a while. Then a reply Tom had been anticipating came from her:
"Which room are you in?"
Tom smiled slightly and typed out the room number. After hitting send, he looked up at Gregor with a knowing grin.
"Might be a good time to go get that Shadowfang knife," he said lightly.
Gregor paused mid-step, turning with a squint. "Why?"
"Because Julia's coming over," Tom said with a cheeky grin, reclining slightly in the chair.
Gregor groaned and shook his head in exasperation. "Of course she is."
"Hey, don't gamble against the best if you're not willing to lose the bet"
Without another word, Gregor grabbed his coat and headed toward the door, muttering under his breath about priorities and lack thereof. Just as he opened the door to leave, he gave Tom a parting look.
"Try not to get murdered while flirting."
"I'll keep the stakes low," Tom said, raising an imaginary glass.
****
A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed at the door.
Tom stood, brushed a few crumbs off his black T-shirt, and walked over. He straightened slightly before opening the door.
Julia stood there in the hallway, her red robe cinched just above the waist, her shoulders slightly hunched as if unsure whether she should be there at all. Her glasses caught the hallway light, and behind them, her eyes flicked up to meet his.
In her hand, she held a half-opened bottle of red wine. She looked beautiful and undeniably alluring. The robe wasn't meant to be provocative, but the way it clung to her frame made it impossible not to notice.
Tom blinked once, taking her in from head to toe. He reasoned that maybe he ought to start going exclusively after older women now.
"Well," he said, opening the door wider. "A vision in crimson."
She smiled as he said so, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She stepped inside, her movements slow and deliberate. The wine bottle shifted slightly in her grip as she looked around the room, taking in the scattered tech, the closed laptop, the hum of the MiFi device still blinking softly from the bed.
"You've been busy," she murmured.
Tom smiled. "Always. But I'm glad you're here."
As she looked at him, her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but instead, she handed him the wine bottle.
"I brought this," she said. "I thought maybe… we could talk. Or just relax. Whatever you feel like."
Tom took the bottle from her hands gently, letting his fingers brush against hers for just a second longer than necessary. Then, with the ease of a practiced charmer, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
"You brought wine," he said. "Which officially makes you the highlight of my day."
She smiled again, more fully this time, the tension in her shoulders starting to melt.
"Smooth," she said.
"I try," Tom replied with a wink.
He moved toward the small kitchenette near the corner of the room, pulling open a drawer to retrieve two glasses. They clinked softly as he set them down on the counter. He could hear Julia behind him, sitting down on the bed, the mattress creaking faintly beneath her.